Perfect
by Nobodyknowsmenow
Summary: Aragorn's wedding day and almost everything goes wrong. Boots and hairbrushes fly, Elves are dragged by the ear And a little Steward teached the King a lesson! A present for Lindahoyland.


This story is a somewhat prequel to 'to have a friend' and a gift for Lindahoyland! I hope she likes it… If she doesn't, I shall cry.

It's just a fluffy, slightly silly little thing!

If I beg, will you review? If so, consider me begging!

_**Perfect**_

****

Aragorn looked at the garments spread neatly on his bed in despair. How the deuce did one put them on?

Elladan snorted, and Elrohir giggled. "Thirty minutes, and if you're late, Arwen will kill you…"

"And if she doesn't Ada will throw you from the ramparts!" Elladan finished for his twin.

"Either way, you're dead!" they said together. Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"You two are insane." He said to no one in particular, and Elrohir threw one of Aragorn's boots at him. Legolas dodged, and the boot went sailing out the window. The wood elf then tripped over Gimli, tried to catch himself on the plant stand beside the window and he and the plant fell to the floor.

"Talk aboot a face plant, laddie!" Gimli snickered.

Aragorn moaned. "What else could go wrong?"

"You don't want to know." Elrohir said.

Elladan looked out the window. "Your boot is gone for good." He said cheerily. "And you haven't another pair."

The King sank into a chair. He was still in street clothes- he had to take a bath, do his hair, dress, gather some courage, and then marry Arwen, and in doing so, in effect, sign her death sentence! It was all he could do not to cry.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and then it was pushed open.

"My lord, are you nearly… Good heavens!" Faramir gasped, his eyes wide as he took in the view. Aragorn flushed and teary eyed in a chair, Legolas trying to repot a plant, Gimli and Elrohir squabbling, Elladan leaning out the window. Looking again at the King, he decided to help. After all, what was an enmeshed Majesty to do without his solicitous Steward?

"Out." He said very quietly, but all motion stopped, and the elves and dwarf stared at him. He cleared his throat. "Get out." He repeated.

"Make us." Elladan challenged- he barely had the 's' of 'us' out before his ear was gripped painfully between a thumb and finger, his brother being dragged similarly by a very determined Steward, who had somehow managed to get Gimli in front of him and was pushing him to the door. He shoved the two elves and dwarf out, and was about to snatch Legolas when the woodland prince held up his hands in surrender.

"Going!" he said and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Now, to deal with the depressed dignitary.

Faramir knelt by the chair and brushed Aragorn's hand back. "What's wrong, Sire, hmmm?"

The king was pleasantly surprised- Faramir almost never spoke to him, never ever gave or received friendly overtures, much less come in and oust occupants from his, the King's, room, and then he was speaking to him and trying to help! It was pleasant, and Aragorn wished very much to be friends with the reserved young man.

"I just don't know!" Aragorn burst out. "I'm so nervous, and I guess worried, and… I don't know."

Faramir grinned. "You're as bad as Boromir was." He said. "Now, go take your bath, put on your smalls and come back out and I will help you dress." Aragorn sighed.

"The bath isn't drawn yet."

"It isn't?" a quick glance into the bathing chamber verified that, and Faramir groaned. "Bugger."

He opened the door and whistled loud and shrill. Three servants came running. "Bath. Now." Faramir said. "If that tub is not full in five minutes, I will want to know why- move it!" He turned to the King. "Sit down." The King did as told and Faramir began to brush out his hair with gentle strokes. Aragorn felt a hand massaging the back of his neck and he leaned in gratefully.

"What shall I do?" Aragorn moaned. "I shall be late. I shall not look as I should, and what will I say?"

"You won't be late." Faramir said. "Everyone else shall be i early / . And you'll look fine. As to what you should say…" Faramir shrugged. "Be yourself. Don't try to give a huge grand speech, appeal to their hearts- don't bore them. Tell her you love her, tell them you love her, tell her father you'll take care of her…"

"That's just it!" Aragorn wailed. "I'll kill her!" Faramir frowned as the King burst into tears. "I love her so much, and I'm killing her!"

The steward watched his sovereign weep for a moment, and then awkwardly gathered him into his arms. "There, there." He whispered soothingly, stroking Aragorn's hair and rubbing his back. "It'll be all right, you'll see."

"How can it be all right? She was supposed to live i forever /i ." Aragorn sobbed onto his stewards shoulder. "And because I love her, she'll die!"

"No." Faramir corrected without thinking. "Because she loves you she will die. Not because you love her. She chose to stay with you and die, because she loves you. Lady Arwen knows what she is doing. And- well… I don't quite know how to tell you this, but there are worse things for her than dying."

"Like what." Aragorn challenged.

"Living without what she loves." Faramir's eyes were full now. "Being all alone, without even the thought of death to warm her, without even the hope of being reunited. She could go to the West and live forever with no love, no hope. To me, that would be worse than death- being alone."

Aragorn sighed "But-"

"Listen to me, sire. I know what I am talking about. I have lost almost everyone dear to me in a very short time. So be still and listen." Faramir commanded. "Listen for only a moment, though I am younger than you, and be assured I will not speak so again. Do not let the thought of her death bitter her to you. Love her more for it- make the moments you have here full of laughter and love. Take joy in life and accept death when it comes. For truly, a little sleep and then together for eternity with all you have ever loved is not so horrible, is it?" Faramir asked.

The king thought about it. "That doesn't sound so bad. I see what you mean. I will do my best."

"Good. Now go bathe. You have two minutes." Aragorn leapt into the full bathtub and began to lather himself. Faramir stripped off his outer robes. Kneeling beside the sunken tub he began to wash the King's hair. "I used to do this for Boromir." He said in reply to the King's unspoken question. "He was always late, and I early."

Hurriedly, Aragorn dried himself and Faramir helped him dress, and with swift fingers he braided the smooth dark hair into ceremonial braids.

"I am so afraid of this." Aragorn admitted, and Faramir smiled at him in the mirror.

"When I was about three years old, I had to take my vow to the Steward, who at the time was my grandfather, Ecthelion. I was out in the hall, crying with fear, because I could not remember my oath- 'Here do I swear in living, or dying… you know the one. Anyway, I could not remember it or even say 'henceforth' properly. I was terrified. Ecthelion always frightened me anyway, and now the whole council was to be there, and I had to say it all the way through with no helps! I wished to die, and was seriously considering running away and becoming a stable boy, when my father found me out there, getting tears all over my uniform. He didn't say anything, just gave me his handkerchief and waited until I was composed.

'What's wrong, Faramir?' he asked me, and I answered him truthfully. He bent down and picked me up, big boy that I was at three, he hugged me and kissed my hair. 'You are Faramir, son of Denethor of Gondor, and you need not be afraid. No matter how this goes, know that I am proud of you, and failing here will not make you any less my son, or make me love you less. It will change nothing.' Then he put me down and we walked into the Throne room together, and I said my oath, even the horrible 'henceforth' and I wasn't afraid- I was strong in knowing that no matter what I did, those who loved me would still love me, and the ones who didn't- well, chances were they never would! So maybe knowing that would help you- I mean, I know it's childish, but I thought it would help." He blushed. "I don't know- I'm sorry, sire, but I-"

Aragorn smiled. "Thank you, Faramir. I think it'll help."

A timid knock sounded at the door, and then it opened a little to show an Elvin wrist and hand, waving a white sock.

Faramir laughed. "Enter!" The twins and Legolas bounded in and landed on the bed.

"Gimli is…."

"Getting sloshed already." Elrohir finished. "So-"

"We came…"

"To see…"

"If you were ready yet!" Legolas asked.

"You look good."

"Handsome."

"Acceptable, if grubby." Elladan sniffed. Faramir glowered at him, and the elf yelped as a hairbrush pinged off his head. "Majestic!" he amended and Faramir smiled.

"Ready?" Legolas asked, and Aragorn gasped in horror.

"My boots! Those were my only pair!" he sat down- no, he crumpled. "What will I do?" Faramir was gone. Legolas leaned out the window.

"There's no way we can get it- I can't even see it."

"No way to replace it."

"Nothing we can do." They all sighed, and Aragorn nearly cried from frustration. In seven minutes he was to be married to the woman he loved more than anything, who loved him more than life itself, and he couldn't find his boots!

If there was anything more absurd or less romantic than marrying in his socks, he did not want to know about it.

What was he to do?

He could hear the gossip now… 'You'd think, being king, he could afford decent stockings! Look at those holes!' 'Did he forget the boots?'

He seriously considered running away to be a stable hand.

Faramir came in, panting heavily, holding up two well polished black boots. "Should… fit!" he gasped, holding them out to the King, then kneeling to help him put them on. A quick glance told Aragorn they were old- but still in excellent condition.

"Where did you get them? Your feet are smaller than mine. These fit perfectly!" Aragorn asked as he wrestled them on. Faramir blushed.

"They're his."

"Boromir?" Legolas asked sympathetically.

"No." Faramir shrugged. "Denethor's." Aragorn's eyebrow went up even as he rose and made a break for the door. There was a story there, but he didn't have time…

Four minutes! Faramir yanked on his robes, seemingly effortlessly straightening them and his hair. Aragorn was jealous.

"Sire, the rings!" Faramir threw the two jewel caskets to Aragorn, who caught them as they all ran through the halls.

They were on time, and no one could tell they had run the whole way. Faramir quickly smoothed Aragorn's hair, gave a twitch to his robes and straightened his collar.

"Go then." He whispered, giving Aragorn a little push.

Arwen smiled, whispering, "You look lovely." To her husband as he came to stand beside her before Elrond.

"You look more beautiful than a dawn in spring." Aragorn whispered back, and the ceremony began.

"Have you anything to say?" Elrond asked.

"Yes." Aragorn swallowed hard. "Arwen…" he lost his voice. Next to him, Faramir leaned forward a little and whispered something and Aragorn found his voice.

Those who loved him always would- and those who didn't, wouldn't!

"I-I love you. I'll always love you, and I'll take care of you." Tears misted over his eyes. "I promise, it'll be worth it." He could say no more because she was in his arms. He could just hear the cheering and whistling as she whispered.

"I love you, too. And I will not regret my choice." He felt tears prick his eyes. There could be nothing more romantic or wonderful.

It was _perfect._


End file.
